


Sonata No. 3: For iPods and Supersoldiers

by Wynn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: About music and books, And Darcy is determined to educate Bucky, Because moose in Norway don't get wifi, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Pining, Prompt Fic, Sam's got a crush on Steve, Though he's kind of in denial about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynn/pseuds/Wynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t let you knock on this door. At least not for you. Jane’s got to hole up here because Thor’s MIA and, like, every supervillain on this <em>planet</em> wants to steal her so they can be the first to slingshot themselves to the ass end of space to take over the goddamn galaxy, so I’ve got to stay here too. And I need someone, Sam. Just one person here who I can talk to about music and books that aren’t three thousand page tragic Russian epics and movies made before 1945.” She took a step toward him then, and Sam had to call upon all of his courage <em>not</em> to take a step back at the crazed gleam in her eyes. “I get Barnes. You can take your melodic evil someplace else.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonata No. 3: For iPods and Supersoldiers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CardeaKelsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardeaKelsey/gifts).



> For cardeakelsey and a prompt she gave me a long time ago: Sam and Darcy, in any kind of relationship you'd prefer (/, &, etc) #2: ‘I can’t let you do that.’ I went with &, throwing in a little Sam/Steve and Darcy/Bucky. Also, I mean no offense if you like the Goo Goo Dolls. They were the first band that came to mind for Darcy’s rant and were cited primarily for the visual of her shrieking Goo Goo Dolls in disbelief. Or if you like borscht or pickled cucumbers. 
> 
> As always, the characters are not mine. I'm just playing in Marvel's sandbox for a while.

“Sonata No. 3: For iPods and Supersoldiers”

*

“I can’t let you do that.”

Sam froze, his hand raised and poised to knock on the door to Steve and Bucky’s new apartment in the Avengers complex in upstate New York. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Darcy at the top of the stairs, clutching an enormous bag stuffed full of books, movies, and, perched right on top, a shiny new cherry red iPod.

“Do what? And do you need help?”

“Knock. And no, I do not,” she said as she made her way toward him. 

Sam frowned at her. “Why can’t I knock?”

She pointed with her chin to the iPod he held in his hand. “Because of that evil right there.”

He glanced at the iPod. “Evil? In what world are Nina and Thelonious evil?”

“This one,” Darcy said as she revealed a heretofore unknown level of strength by wedging herself between Sam and the door. “Go fly elsewhere, bird boy. You already had your shot. You got Cap.”

Sam lifted his brows and thanked God he was not a blusher. Still, his eyes darted from Darcy to the door. He’d bet dollars to the donuts that Pietro consumed at an alarming rate that either Steve or Bucky or the both of them were on the other side of the door, their epic supersoldier hearing and cat-like curiosity drawing them toward this increasingly disastrous conversation between Darcy and Sam. 

Sam pulled in a deep breath and said, calmly, “Darcy, I didn’t _get_ Steve.”

The look she sent him screamed ‘bitch please’ at decibels that Sam wagered Thor could hear out in deep space. He narrowed his eyes then, vowing swift vengeance if she breathed one word of what he thought was his carefully hidden crush on Steven Grant Rogers. For a few seconds, he thought she would, the gleam in her eyes diabolical, but then whatever malevolence had seized hold of her abated, and her compassionate demeanor returned. 

“Yes, you did. You brainwashed Cap with Marvin Gaye and Etta James, and that’s all fine and good because they’re great. But now he won’t even listen to ABBA, much less Nirvana. And I need _someone_ , okay? Because all Pietro listens to is weird death metal, and Wanda…” Darcy trailed off then, shaking her head. Sam silently agreed, Wanda jamming to the oddest folkiest avant garde prog rock monstrosities that reminded Sam simultaneously of seventeen chain saws being drug against seventeen chalk boards while fairies sprinkled fairy dust over dewy pastel flower petals. “Don’t even get me started with Vision,” Darcy continued, attempting to wave her hand in dismissal but only succeeding in jostling her bag. “And Jane’s idea of musical taste is the goddamn Goo Goo Dolls, and Rhodey won’t even stay in the same room with me anymore after I tried to get him to listen to some Perturbator. So no,” she said again, both the volume of her voice and intensity of her rant rising. “I can’t let you knock on this door. At least not for you. Jane’s got to hole up here because Thor’s MIA and, like, every supervillain on this _planet_ wants to steal her so they can be the first to slingshot themselves to the ass end of space to take over the goddamn galaxy, so I’ve got to stay here too. And I need someone, Sam. Just one person here who I can talk to about music and books that aren’t three thousand page tragic Russian epics and movies made before 1945.” She took a step toward him then, and Sam had to call upon all of his courage _not_ to take a step back at the crazed gleam in her eyes. “I get Barnes. You can take your melodic evil someplace else.”

Sam may not have been a supersoldier, but even he heard the laughter drift through the closed door. That more than anything changed the course of the conversation, Sam previously intending to ask whether Darcy was sure, Barnes still fresh from the cold and having minimal interactions with the rest of the team. Instead, he tilted his head and peered into her bag, zeroing in on the easiest to mock selections.

“ _Up_? Darcy, he’s not six years…”

But the rest of his attempted ribbing died on his lips as Darcy narrowed her eyes, drew herself to her fullest short height, and sent him an imperious glare worthy of Natasha. “If you don’t think he’d respond to a movie about a sad old dude in desperate need of some lighthearted adventure and companionship, then you’re seriously cracked, Wilson. _Now knock on the goddamn door_!”

Sam snapped to attention, too much time in the army and working for Cap instilling within him an instinctive response to barked orders. Reaching over Darcy, he knocked, and he barely had time to retract his hand before the door opened and Steve peered out at them. 

“Oh, hey, Sam. Darcy.”

Sam only needed one glance at the barely suppressed smirk on Steve’s face to know that he had been standing behind the door and had heard everything. Darcy, perhaps oblivious, or perhaps in the grips of epic determination, bypassed his obvious amusement to send him a sunny grin.

“Hey, Cap. Is James around?”

Steve softened at her use of Barnes’ name. His smirk shifted to a genuine smile that absolutely did _not_ make Sam’s stomach flip-flop as he said, “Yeah, he is.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he called out, “Hey, Buck! Darcy’s here to see you.”

Barnes was either better at subterfuge than Steve, which, to be fair, _everyone_ was, including the six-foot plus mauve android who thought flowing capes was the height of fashion, or else Barnes hadn’t actually been lurking behind the door with Steve to eavesdrop because it took him half a minute to make his way to the door. There, he nodded once at Sam before shifting his attention to Darcy. He said nothing, just quirked a brow at her bag of stuff.

Darcy sent Barnes the same sunny smile she’d sent Steve. “Hi! This is for you.” She thrust the bag at him. Or she tried to, the bag too heavy and her arms too tired to do more than bump it a bit with her belly. Still, Barnes understood and, thankfully, accepted the proffered gift.

“Now, you don’t have to listen to-slash-read-slash-watch any of the stuff that’s in here,” Darcy said, pointing to the bag, “but you should because it’s all good. Even the animated movie, despite certain people’s thoughts to the contrary. And I’ve had a _lot_ of experience being in the middle of nowhere with absolutely nothing to do. I mean, seriously, first I lived with Jane in the middle of a _desert_ and then we were in the wilds of Norway, and, unfortunately, moose antlers don’t help transmit wi-fi, and, yeah, London was great, but now we’re _here_ , and the closest town is, like, forty minutes away and all anyone ever does here is stare righteously into the distance and punch stuff.”

Steve ducked his head, trying hard not to smile. Sam raised a hand and covered his mouth too. 

“Which is fine,” Darcy continued, again either too oblivious or determined to comment on their amusement, “if you have the right soundtrack, but no matter how hard I try, and trust me, dude, I’ve tried, Steve won’t even _consider_ ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ for the team theme song.”

Barnes blinked. He glanced at Sam then at Darcy once more before turning to Steve standing beside him, where he cocked a brow.

Steve blinked now, thrown by the actual consideration given by Barnes to her proposal. “I’ll, uh,” he said, glancing at Sam for aid, but Sam, traitor that he was and loving nothing more than to see Steve flush and flounder, merely shrugged. Steve narrowed his eyes at him before turning back to Barnes to say, “I’ll reconsider it.”

Barnes nodded and Darcy beamed and Sam knew that, in two days’ time, Queen would likely be blasting from the mega speakers that Stark had installed in their training room.

Barnes shifted the bag in his hands, looping the handles around his left arm. “Thanks.”

There was a moment of silence in which Steve’s eyes widened at the expression of gratitude and then softened as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, and Sam wondered for a second if he was going to cry. But he didn’t. Darcy, however, blushed, turning the same cherry red as the iPod.

“No problem.” 

Barnes nodded. “You want to come in?” he asked, tilting his head back toward the apartment. “I wouldn’t mind watching one now.” He paused before Darcy could respond and glanced at Steve. “If that’s—”

“That is absolutely okay,” Steve said. He slid around Barnes and Darcy to step into the hallway beside Sam. “You watch as many as you want. I’ll be at Sam’s if you need anything.”

Barnes nodded, but he wasn’t focused on Steve. Instead, he was looking at Darcy, waiting for her response. She started and then nodded, her face still faintly flushed as she smiled. Relaxing, Barnes stepped back, nearly pressing into the wall to give her enough space to pass by. She did, launching into an explanation of the various movie options before them as she disappeared down the hallway, her hands flailing as she described the merits of them all. Barnes nodded again, listening to every word, barely sparing Sam and Steve a glance as he shut the door.

In the silence in the hall, Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam didn’t know whether to laugh at the stunned expression on Steve’s face, feeling the same upon his own.

“Uh… here,” he said, thrusting the iPod at Steve. “I added the songs we talked about and a few others I thought you might like.”

Recovering, Steve focused on the iPod and smiled. And though Sam tried, he couldn’t _not_ think of summer sunshine and candied apples and fireworks bursting in the goddamn sky, especially when Steve reached out and claimed the device from Sam, his fingers brushing against Sam’s in the effort. 

“Thanks!” Steve said, twirling the iPod in hands that Sam had only once, or twice, or three times sighed over their perfection while alone at night. “And, hey, I hope it’s okay that I—”

“It’s absolutely okay.” Steve arched his brows at the hasty response, and prior history, of course, be damned, Sam actually felt himself start to blush. “You, uh, you want to grab something to eat? Natasha’s trying to make borscht for the Vision, but I just can’t, man. Not after the pickled cucumbers Wanda made yesterday.”

Steve couldn’t quite suppress his grimace. “Yeah, they were… interesting.”

“Interesting is definitely one word for them.” When Steve caught his eyes and smiled again, Sam absolutely did not feel his breath catch in his chest. “So you want to…?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, of course.” Steve slid the iPod into his pocket and brushed up against Sam as they started down the hallway, his smile still bright and warm, lighter than Sam had ever seen and focused now just on him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*


End file.
